like a lighting bolt to the heart
by mirajens
(miraxus day 5: tattoos and guild marks)

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They leave his birthday party just two hours after it starts and everyone notices, if the catcalls and whistles and cheers they get all the way from the kitchenette to the parking lot are any indication. They make quick work of walking back to the male dormitories and Laxus can't help stealing glances at Mirajane's chest where she hugs his arm to, and he keeps himself distracted from the length of the streets with a mental debate on whether she's wearing a bra or not. It sure doesn't feel like it.

They finally make it to his room and it's easy to sneak her in; it's too late in the night (morning?) for anyone to seriously be looking out for visitors of the female persuasion so in she went and off their clothes go, one by one. When her back slams against the door of Laxus' dorm room, he's quick to pull back, inspect her for signs of pain and mutter a panicked, "Fuck! I'm sorry, are you okay?"

She shakes her head and grabs him by the lapels of his almost shed jacket, just as fast to smash her hot mouth against his, sloppy and needy. His shirt goes off, then his shoes, then everything else, and he thinks it's not fair that they're only just shucking her jeans off, but his curiosity has been nipping at him the whole night so he lets her fumble with her irritatingly tight bottoms while his hand snakes up under her top and squeezes a bare boob.

"I knew it!" comes his cry, his mouth detaching from where it laved kisses on her jawline. Mirajane makes a noise that sounds like a whimper and it's only when his fingers are playing with tiny nubs that she snaps out of whatever heat wave put a wrench into the gears of her mind.

She takes his hands by the wrists and draws them from under her shirt. "Wait, wait," she says, just a little out of breath. He looks lost when her hands push at his chest and when the back of his knees hit the edge of his bed, he lets himself fall to a sitting position as she stands between his legs. "I almost forgot to show you your birthday present."

His hands smooth up her legs and grab her ass cheeks, not even covered by the tiny yellow thong she's wearing. "I'm already having my present." he insists but swallows back more snark when he sees the annoyed look on her face. "Please don't tell me you're stopping this to run to your dorm to grab my gift. I don't want to die on my birthday."

Mirajane laughs because he's quite melodramatic for a self-proclaimed serious man, but she supposes the copious consumption of alcohol would be enough to shatter one's staidness. "No talking now or I really will stop."

She holds his gaze as she grips the hem of her blouse, slowly dragging upward and dropping it once off. She sweeps her hair off her face and chest, not missing the way her boyfriend's eyes dilute at the sight of her breasts. So gently she places a palm on his chest and pushes him on his back so she can crawl on him until her "gift" is right in front of his face. "Do you like it?" Mirajane asks, a coral tipped finger touching the black mark in between her breasts.

Laxus doesn't think he can look away even if he wanted to; the small tattoo of a lightning bolt captivates him and that's saying something with a lap full of an almost naked babe. He swallows hard, his lowered brain function only allowing him to reach up and brush a thumb against the inked skin. "Is it permanent?" he asks, quite dumbly.

She nods and he feels his heart swell. "Then I'll have to make sure you never regret getting it." He presses his lips to it, the lightning bolt to her chest she always accused him of being. He's about to make a joke about how no one should get tattoos of their lovers but she's sliding her panties off and there's no more talk, at least not for a while.